


Leave No Trace

by Moontyger



Category: Death Note, Loveless
Genre: Community: no_true_pair, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-28
Updated: 2009-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/pseuds/Moontyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His whole life, in everything he does, L lives by a single principle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave No Trace

His whole life, in everything he does, L lives by a single principle. Not justice, no, that's more a side effect, something that results from his hobbies and interests without his entirely intending it. No, the matter that takes up his mind, the puzzle he works on continually, is one that sounds deceptively simple: leave no trace. Wherever he goes, whatever he does, he leaves nothing behind: no photos, no mementos, nothing that can definitively identify him. Nothing that can prove that the man who goes by a single letter instead of a name had ever been real.

It's complicated, at least in these modern times - an endlessly complex dance, but one he enjoys. So many cameras everywhere, official and otherwise: an eternal surveillance that he must dodge, erase, or mislead if he intends to remain anonymous, his presence unmarked. L is not a criminal, but he is determined to never be caught.

And so, these are the only marks he leaves behind: a red trail torn by ragged nails over Soubi's back, the marks of sharp teeth on his shoulder, the bruises left on his wrists and ankles by the cuffs. L examines them carefully, leaves a kiss in the center of each one. He feels oddly proud, though perhaps it isn't odd at all. Humans are territorial animals; it's only natural that he wishes to mark his territory in some way, even if that territory is another man's body. And Soubi never complains, never protests or asks him for anything he can't give; he's the perfect lover for a man who refuses to exist.

Smiling sweetly, he shows his lover to the door, watches him from the window until he is gone. Soon the room will be tidied and he and Watari will move on - to another city, perhaps another lover. Only the marks he has left behind will remain and, in time, even those will fade, vanishing slowly from his chosen canvas, each day a little harder to see. A week from now, possibly two, there will be nothing left to show he was ever here at all.

 


End file.
